Before Winter Ended
by StarnightX
Summary: Kakuzu hasn't spoken to Hidan in 8 years since the end of high school, just when winter would turn into spring. He now finds himself the financial adviser of the Uchiha Medical Group, and learns that Hidan has become a porn star. Even though Hidan is well…Hidan, Kakuzu can hardly believe it. Oneshot. AU. Yaoi/BL. Rated M for mentions of sexual situations.


**A/N: **My first oneshot…and it's written in 1st person…and its shounen ai/yaoi/whatever! D: The hell has possessed me!?

To those who follow me and my other "currently-in-progress" stories, I'm very sorry for the unannounced long leave of absence. I have writer's block for both stories, and with other things going on with my life I haven't gotten around to writing those stories at all. Again, I sincerely apologize. So I decided to write a oneshot.

I'd also like it to be noted that this story is written in Kakuzu's POV and takes place in modern day Japan. :D

* * *

"I love you," was what you told me.

"Don't say things you don't mean," was what I said.

It was the last day of senior year. Winter had just turned into spring. We were walking home together for what I thought to be one of the last times. It was our usual route, when you wouldn't drag me to the Gamer's. The path ran along the side of a grassy river bank.

You stopped walking, your hands clenched tight, I'd imagine.

"I'm serious. I love you." You repeated.

I stopped, and looked over my shoulder. Indeed your hands were clenched into fists. You were also glaring holes into the ground.

I didn't say anything that time. I had nothing to say. It wasn't every day your best friend confessed to you, after all. So I simply stood there, silent.

"Well?" You asked. Your face was turning red now, from anger or embarrassment I wasn't really sure. Knowing you, I was willing to bet on the first rather than the later.

"Well, what?" I drawled.

"What's your answer!?" You nearly shouted.

"Keh." I turned away from you. I remember feeling beyond agitated. It was unfair, you know? You can't go saying things like that the last day of senior year. Not when we only had a short summer left together, before going our separate ways. "What's there to say?" I wondered aloud.

You heard me.

"A lot!" You shouted again. "There's a lot you could say! It wasn't fucking easy you know!?"

I could only stare at you. I had nothing to say; or rather I couldn't say anything. Instead I simply turned and headed home by myself. I didn't have to turn around to know that you followed me. You didn't really have much of choice really. We lived close to each other.

When I got home, my mother asked where you were.

"He's with the others. I'm going to meet up with them later," was what I told her.

That was nearly eight years ago, eight long years. Somehow I've managed to avoid you all that time. Naturally everyone questioned it, our family and close friends. I suppose we both kept the incident to ourselves, because nobody had told me otherwise. But that didn't keep me from hearing about you, of course. We were childhood friends, so our mothers naturally spoke to one another about us. You can imagine how I felt when it was my **mother **who told me that you became a porn star.

"I don't know how such a thing could happen," she said to me over the phone, her head probably shaking to and fro. "He was a troublesome boy sure, but he was such a good boy. If you two had gone to the same college, maybe this wouldn't have happened."

To be honest I think my mother gives me too much credit. You're as uncontrollable as an angered gorilla on a city rampage. Even so, sometimes, when I think about it, I feel I could have done something about it.

You know, I watched one of your videos once.

I was 23.

I looked it up almost right after I heard the news. It was entitled: "Blonde Bitch Ass-fucked". I clicked play and, a couple minutes later, there you were ramming into some blonde bimbo. I hastily closed the screen.

It was disgusting.

Absolutely disgusting.

I knew that you were vulgar, but I thought even you had at least a sense of dignity, integrity. The thought that you'd actually do something like…**that** in front of a camera for **pay**? But…I guess it's not that big of a deal is it? I guess I'm more of a romantic than I thought. At least I wouldn't have to face you about it, or so I thought.

One week ago Itachi called me. The old gang from high school was going to meet up. "You should go," he said. "Last time was a near disaster. You're the only one who can control Hidan."

I declined, only to have Pein call me a few days later. "—Hidan's going to be there. You're the only one who can control him."

It's funny how so many people think that, don't you think?

I ended up going. I was the last to arrive. The table fell quite instantly.

Our eyes met. Your white hair was combed back as usual. Your pink eyes were wild as usual. You had failed to button your shirt all the way up as usual. You hadn't changed a bit. You broke contact first, continuing to tell a blushing Deidara about your "career". The chatter slowly came back to life.

Pein was the vice president of his father's energy company. Konan, naturally, became his assistant. Deidara and Sasori lived in art studio together and taught classes on the side. Zetsu worked for the government as an intelligence officer. Itachi became the president of his father's medical company, after his father's early passing. Being a member of high society, Kisame was hired as a body guard, although it could be argued Itachi was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. I, on the other hand, was hired Itachi's financial adviser. Tobi, some way or another, was one of the chairman in Itachi's company. How that happened, I wasn't entirely sure, because Tobi was never really…focused.

Then…there was **you**.

You were a porn star, and you **flaunted** it. You sounded like there was nothing nobler than getting paid to have sex.

It was no surprise that you were the first to get drunk. The responsibility of controlling you was pushed onto me by everyone else by a silent agreement. I had to keep you from kissing Deidara and Itachi. I had to drag you out of Kisame's lap. I couldn't do anything about Konan though after you gave Pein a firm kiss on the lips. You can't be protected from a woman's wrath.

It wasn't until you shouted at me at the top of your lungs, "BUT KAZU IMMA POOORNN STAAAR! I CAN DOOOO ANYTHAN' I WAAANT!" did I know that it was time to go.

Zetsu knew your address, but I had to take you home.

Your body felt too hot, your arm slung over my shoulder as I escorted you. You pressed up against me much too often. You murmured a bunch of gibberish, your breath tickling my neck. I could smell your mixed sent of booze and cheap cologne.

I wanted nothing more than to just drop you in the middle of the street and leave.

You live in a really shit apartment complex in a really shitty one bedroom. The inside was a monstrosity of filth: garbage stuffed in plastic bags, empty beer cans just about everywhere I turned, and the stench coming from the bathroom nearly made me gag.

I dragged you to your bedroom, by this time you'd quieted down a lot, to much of my relief. I unceremoniously dropped you on your bed. I debated for a moment on whether I should do anything else, leave you a glass of water or tidy up the place a bit… It's strange how easy it was to get back to the old swing of things when I was with you, but I reminded myself we are no longer in high school and simply left. I didn't want to stay any longer than I had to. But before I left I could hear you murmuring about something.

I could vaguely make out my name.

You sounded so pitiful, it was pathetic…but I didn't turn back.

The moment I got home, I punched the wall, denting it. It'd been a long, **long** time since I'd done that. From the way you went on and on about your "job", I thought you at least had a decent place to live, but your place was **repulsive**.

It's not supposed to be this way.

No. You were supposed to become a pro-baseball player, or at least a coach or a sports trainer. That's what you told me in our final year of high school. You lived and breathed baseball. You **were** baseball. When we settled on attending different universities, I told you I was worried you'd slack off. You shouted at me saying that you were going to work your ass off. Then when I watched one of your games on TV, you'd flick off the cameraman just to rub it in my face. I told him you'd probably get in trouble with the manager if you did that. You didn't care.

"I do what I want, whenever I want!" You declared.

I laugh bitterly at the thought; I wonder how true that is now.

That night I found myself in front of the glow of a computer screen, artificial moans filling the space in my room. Beer bottles littered the usually clean floor. I was hot and bothered, furiously trying to get off.

I didn't know you did gay porn too; then again I shouldn't be surprised. I hated straight. Most all the girls were overly loud and drowned out your voice.

My hips lift up from where I sat on the bed, wanting something more than a measly hand. I was panting heavily. It felt like I'd been at it for hours.

You know, I can't believe you'd let a man pound you senseless. It's so unlike you, but that's how a majority of the videos end up. Of course, who am I to say what you're like anymore? Can I even say I know you anymore?

No, I can't. Especially after seeing the number of BDSM videos.

I was appalled.

There's no way you could enjoy being treated that way! I could hardly stand it myself! The way the men treated you made me nearly gag, not to mention punch a hole through my computer screen.

I had to turn it off.

I couldn't bear to watch anymore videos, so instead I laid back on my bed, continuing to jack myself off. I tried to recall your moans. I imagined your touches, how your warm lips would feel against my neck, chest, lower...I'd worship you; decorate you in kisses from head to toe. I'd take you slowly, envelope my body around yours.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The alarm.

The alarm clock brings me back down from near insanity. I immediately stop what I was doing. What the fuck am I doing?

I lie there on my bed trying to figure it out. I can't hear my heavy breathing or the alarm clock. I can only hear the dull buzzing in my ears. I feel so numb, and I'm still so hard. I want—needed—

"Hidan," I groan, eyes shut. I run a hand through my wild hair, a longing grows in my chest. Then I open my eyes.

I know where you lived.

I run. I didn't even bother to turn off the alarm clock.

I must have looked like a mad man, sprinting down the street without shoes in the early morn, looking completely disarrayed. The winter sun had only just begun to rise. I haven't run this much since our days of high school, when we were on the baseball team. By the time I get to your apartment again, I'm dying, crumpled over, wheezing like an old man. I let myself catch my breath for a couple of seconds, before pounding on your door.

You don't answer. So I pound again, then bellow, "Hidan! Open up!"

I can hear something crash from the other side of the door. "The fuck is it so damn early in the morning?" I hear you complain. You fumble with the lock before swinging the door open. You 're completely shocked.

I can only imagine what I looked like. I doubt even you have seen me so dismantled before. My hair's everywhere, my white dress shirt sticks to my skin with sweat, I'm heaving like a horse in labor and I probably have a crazy glint in my normally calm eyes. My heart's pounding against my rib cage. I swear to God you can probably hear it. It's as though my one heart had multiplied into five, but I wasn't going to chicken out now.

Without hesitation I grab your shoulders.

You're quick to panic. "The hell!? Kakuzu!? The fuck!? Whatever I did, I'm sorry!"

I chuckle darkly. That's what you used to always say when you thought I was angry. Even after all these years, some old habits die hard.

"What is it!? How the fuck do you know where I live!? The hell are you doin—"

"I love you," is what I say, but it only managed to come out as a whisper.

Your jaw drops to the floor. "Y-you what?" You somehow choke out.

"I love you," I repeat, more firmly.

Your eyes are wide, then you glare and shove me away. "Don't say things you don't mean."

* * *

**A/N:** So yeah…that was my first oneshot/shounen ai/yaoi/whatever. Kakuzu's character is a bit OOC. I'm really sorry about that, but I kind of want to justify his actions near the end of the story. For the most part he's a very cool and collected character, until he's angered, then he becomes impulsive and kind of loses it. So when it comes to things like, love, affection or even desire, I'd imagine he'd react the same way, a bit impulsive…and a bit crazy, I guess?

This could easily be expanded, but I kind of just want to leave this oneshot as it is. Maybe I'll come back and write more about it in the future. Lol, anyways, thank you so much for reading and please drop me a quick review of what you thought! 3


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